


On the Search

by lostinthegoldenpines



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthegoldenpines/pseuds/lostinthegoldenpines
Summary: Moomintroll is waiting impatiently for the return of his husband, but where could he be??





	On the Search

They had been married for ten years now. They had gone on plenty of adventures together and had shared many marvelous secrets together. As it was since he had known him, Snufkin would still leave every winter and return on the first day of spring. This year, he was a bit late, though that had been anticipated. The Joxter and Snufkin were at war with a certain park keeper; and they planned to be gone longer. Moomin was fine with that. Only. Spring had melted away into summer and Snufkin had not yet returned. Tail twitching in worry, Moomin pulled on his backpack. It was time to search, he decided, determined to find his vagabond husband. No matter what, he would find him. He stepped boldly out into the hazy morning, ignoring the dragon flies that flittered past. He and Moominpapa had built a house for Moomin that was close to the house he grew up in as a child, but still private enough for when Snufkin and Moomin felt…more passionate about their love. He waved at Mama who sat on the porch knitting, and with a determined face plastered on to hide his absolute worry, he trudged down the road. He nearly didn’t see the letter, poking out of the mail box. Pausing, he nearly tripped in his haste. He pulled the letter out of the mail box, opening it hastily.

Moomintroll,

Sorry I’m late. Things went on longer than expected. Everything is okay. Let’s play a game, shall we? Try to find me. The flowers are your clues.

Love you to the stars and back,

Snufkin

His eye twitching, Moomin leaned his snout back and howled into the air, shaking the letter angrily. In shaking it, he saw the small pink flower petals dropping from the letter. Reaching into the mailbox, he pulled out a wreath of flowers he had never seen before.

“Oh, those are beautiful astilbes.” Moominmama murmured from beside Moomin. Despite her old age, she was still quite nimble and quick, and certainly did not look as old as she supposedly was. She gently took the wreath and placed it on top of Moomin’s head. “So beautifully crafted too.”

“Mama, do you have a book on the meaning of flowers?” Moomin slowly asked, the realization dawning on him.

“I suppose so, it must be in your father’s library. Shall I fetch it for you dear?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, mama. Snufkin has decided to play one of his games. I swear he’s becoming a bit more like the Joxter whenever they hang out.” Moomin huffed, pointing towards the letter. “A game he says. I haven’t seen my husband since fall last year, and he wants to play a game of hide-n-seek.”

“Well, you know how Snufkin can be, dear.” Moominmama replied, taking Moomin by the arm towards the Moominhouse. “He doesn’t do romance or big grand gestures like you read in your novels. He has his own ideas and unique approaches to things. He’s still shy about it all.”

“It was charming when we were younger, Mama. But I just want to see him.” Moonmin sighed.

“Well, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, dear. Those flowers mean ‘I’ll be waiting for you’, so I suppose you’ll just have to find him.”

Finally with the book in his paws, Moomin trudged over to his own porch to contemplate how to handle this old yet new game. On the table waiting for him was a fresh cup of coffee and larkspurs. Dashing towards the tent that Snufkin always had pitched in front of their yard, Moomin frantically searched for his husband. Instead, he only found a dried flower grown of dark red roses. Trudging to the porch, he flung himself into the chair, taking a sip of the coffee. It had three cubes of sugar in it and a dash of cream, just the way he liked it.

“Snufkin, it would be so better if you would just come out instead of toying with me like this.” Moomin called out to the wind. He flipped open the book. “Let’s see…larkspurs…larkspurs…aha! ‘Lightheartedness and vivacity’. Oh really? Games, when your troll aches to hug you? Rude, Snufkin, very rude. I know you’re around somewhere.” Moomintroll shouted, shaking his fist. “And thanks for the coffee!” He then checked what red roses meant, and laughed. “OOH HO HO. True love? Passion? If you were hoping for any passion of any sort after this game, you can sleep in the apple tree!” Moomin didn’t mean it. He had pined, he had ached for Snufkin all winter long, so much that he could barely sleep. He wanted to love his husband by holding him and hearing the stories of the journey. He wanted to make love to his husband because, well, that one was a bit obvious. With a resigned sigh he slammed the book shut and went inside, not sure what to do next. On the kitchen table sat a boutique of irises, freshly picked. Picking them up, Moomin inhaled their lovely scent, picking up the whiff of mountain grass and the sweet lingering scent of pine trees. “‘Associated with wisdom and trust’.” Moomin mumbled to himself as he read the book. “Wait, I bet these are from Lonely Mountain.” Turning on his heel, he rushed out the house, barely remembering to close the door behind him. His trek to the mountain was rushed and hurried. Perhaps Snufkin would be waiting for him at the top! Instead it was another boutique, this time of with a letter attached.

Moomintroll,

You’re doing wonderfully! 

Snufkin

Moomin nearly crumbled up the letter in a fit of rage. But it smelled like Snufkin, had been written by Snufkin, so he just ended up holding the letter close to his heart instead. The flowers waiting for him this time were Ranunculus and Peonies. Flowers, that according to the book, meant that Snufkin viewed Moomin as attractive and that their marriage was a wonderful, healthy one. Blushing, Moonmin’s tail flicked out irritably. A oyster fell from the middle of the boutique. Opening it, the inside held a black pearl. The beach!

Off he was again, dashing madly as fast as he could towards the beach. He was exhausted and his breath was hitching when he stumbled upon the sandy shores, but he continued on straight away towards the cave—Sniff’s cave really. Inside the cave he searched a bit until he discovered the single Queen Anne’s Lace. He didn’t need the book for that one, he knew it meant sanctuary. Stopping to catch his breath, he flopped down in the sand, adding the flower to his growing collection.

“Sanctuary? Does he mean that he views me as the sanctuary? Or another space?” Rolling on his back, he kicked his feet in the air. “Snufkin! Why must you be so infuriating! I don’t know if I should kiss you or kick you out of the house.” Well. Not that Snufking often slept in the house. He did in the spring, but in the summers he was back in his tent. Moomin would join every now and then, but his fur was so thick and hot, Snufkin wasn’t really up for physical contact, at least not until fall, when the nights chilled and the murmrik would then spoil the moomintroll in all sorts of love and affection. Feeling overheated, Moomin dragged himself to the ocean and flung himself in, letting the cool waters calm him down, in more ways than one. When he surfaced, he saw lilies-of-the-valley floating past him. Narrowing his eyes, Moomin plucked it and took it back to shore with him. He wasn’t sure if that was actually a part of the collection or not, but he added it to the pile, waiting to dry off before looking it up in the book again. “Purity, happiness, sweetness, and humanity. Well. Considered me greatly humbled, Snufkin dear.” Shaking the sand from himself, Moomin gathered up the flowers and the book, trudging forward. Where could the lily be from? Did it grow in a spot that Snufkin liked? Ahhh, the secret fishing hole. A bit less enthused than before, Moomintroll still made good time in arriving at Snufkin’s secret fishing hole. Only a pawful of creatures knew of this place. It was Snufkin’s home away from home away from home, as he would put it. He would pitch his tent, and start the fishing immediately. Here, dragon flies and butterflies were in abundance, and Snufkin swore the birds sang the sweetest. Looking around, Moomin tried to locate the next big clue. He paused as he saw tobacco knocked out on a log. He sniffed at it, recognizing the scent of raspberry and blackberry leaves. It was Snufkin for sure. He followed the trail a bit until he came to a log. Behind the log was a large boutique of flowers of different colored roses. Bright orange for admiration and excitement. Hot pink for gratitude. Pale pink for gentleness and joy. Red for passion and love. Lavender for splendor and wonder. Green for renewal of life. Blue for mystery. A crown of cornflowers, fun and whimsical, representing a man in love was waiting for him as well, and a letter. Blushing deeply, he placed the crown on his head and slowly opened the letter.

Moomintroll,

I love you. Dinner is ready.

Snufkin

Feeling very much like the damsel he probably was, Moomintroll sniffed at his beautiful boutique of flowers and turned to start his walk through the forest and up the old winding, twisting path towards their home. Crossing the bridge, he saw Snufkin’s smaller traveling tent pitched up where it always had been Yet smoke curled cheerful from their kitchen’s fireplace, so he directed himself there instead. He passed by the permeate tent. Sure enough, Snufkin’s things had been placed inside. Heart beating rapidly, Moomin opened the front door. Snufkin’s hat was hanging from the coat rack. Tears began to prick at Moomin’s eyes. The delicious smell of fillet fish and steamed vegetables wafted out from the kitchen. Still wearing his flower crowns and holding his flowers and letters tightly to his chest, Moomin approached the kitchen suspiciously, as if that too would be an illusion, only a note or letter to be found. Instead he found his husband, apron wrapped around the familiar green smock, cheerfully whistling as he added some herbs and spices to the fish. Turning to wipe his hands on a towel, Snufkin looked up in surprise, a grin spreading across his face, pipe in his mouth as he beheld Moomin in all his flowery glory.

“Hullo there, my dove,” Snufkin grinned. “Did you have fun?” He quickly pulled the pan off of the stove top and turned it off as Moomin burst into tears. “Oh, oh dear! Moomin, my beautiful moon, what’s the matter?” He rushed to Moomin, who was still bawling. “Moomin? Moomin talk to me?”

Moomin gently placed down the flowers and letters and scooped up Snufkin, holding him close to his chest.

“I missed you!” Moomin wailed, burying his head into he crook of Snufkin’s neck.

“I missed you so much, my beautiful and wonderful Moomin.” Snufkin replied, kissing his face tenderly. “I’m so sorry, I should have just come home straight away. I thought it would have been more fun as a game. I wanted to spoil you with adoration.”

“You’re becoming more and more like Joxter!” Moomin bawled.

Snufkin pulled a face as he patted Moomin on the head. “Okay, now that was rude and uncalled for. Joxter wouldn’t have been this creative or romantic.”

“Romantic?” Moomin all but threw Snufkin from his arms.

“Yes! Romantic! I picked you flowers with particular meanings, sent you on a scavenger hunt to all of our favorite places, and then prepared a meal for you when you returned.” Snufkin folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Look, I’m trying here.”

He was caught up in another massive hug. “You’re the only thing I need, Snufkin. I don’t need flowers or fun or food, I just need you.” His stomach rumbled, suggesting that was not fully the case. Both of them began chuckling. Tears gave way to laughter and they were both doubled over giggling.

“It was rather romantic, Snufkin. Thank you. I’ve just missed you so much. Please, tell me all about your adventures.”

“I’ll tell you later.” Snufkin stepped in for a kiss, nuzzling their noses together. “I’d rather have an adventure with you first.”

Moomin raised his eyebrows in question when he looked up and saw the rose petals that led from the kitchen up the stairs. He could guess where they ended. He turned completely red, his tail twitching behind him.

“Oh! Oh my”

Snufkin turned back to the fish. “After dinner, of course.”

Moomin stared for a precious moment or two before snatching up Snufkin and fling him over his shoulder, heading towards the stairs. Snufkin laughed the entire way.

“Or perhaps before dinner!”

“It’s your fault for wooing me!”

“So it worked than?”

Moomin paused to kiss Snufkin on the lips and then continued to carry his laughing husband up the rest of the way.


End file.
